As Easy As Murder

19. You shop here? I don't.

I'm shopping again. 

I shouldn't be, but I am. 

7pm, I gathered up some gift cards from my last birthday and some savings, drove myself to a shopping plaza, and went to town. 

Hey, retail therapy is real people.

Me and Kori had a breakthrough on the case last night, narrowing down our suspects to 2 people. He's been fixated on the case, texting me about every little thing he figures out. He hasn't followed up on our weird interaction yesterday, and I don't exactly need him to. 

I have it down to a science. When Kori asks a seemingly lovey question, he's plotting something evil, so I must keep an eye open at all times for shenanigans he plans.

I run my hands over the silky chiffone of a blue dress, and it's calling my name. It's trimmed with black lace, little black bows sewn into the hemn, but it's a gamble if it's gonna fit or not, since my size varies on how the store ones.

Being this is a high-class fancy boutique, I'd guess small. 

I enter the fitting rooms, undressing out of my many layers and slinging them over the bench in the corner. Dad has sent me about 9 more pictures of Gerold, and now one of them is my lock screen, which is lighting up with a call. 

I let it ring as I slip into the silky fabric, the smoothness sliding against my skin. I look at my reflection, running my hands down my sides. Definitely don't look like a fortune teller. Definitely do look smoking hot. 

I slip the dress off, putting it back on the hanger, and dressing back into my usual gothic attire under the light of the umbrella shaped fixture in the fitting room. I exit, passing by a mom wrangling her toddler, and an older daughter yelling into her phone. 

I make it to the front of the store, placing the dress down on the counter. I look up, and to my absolute shock, the face that meets me is that of Liam. He smirks down at me, "Hello there." 

"Liam?" I snicker, looking around the interior of the boutique, a land of lingerie and lace, and mannequins with false eyelashes, "You work here? At Laced With Love?" 

He sighs and nods, scanning the dress. "You wouldn't expect it, right? My sister owns this place, and she forced me into working here, claiming she'd set me up with her friend if she did." 

"Oh," I snort. "Did it work?" 

He shakes his head, "Chic dressed like Barbie and was a flat-earther."

I nod, observing the tattoo on his neck again, a serpant, with some scaled filled in a cobolt blue, his arms also traced with ink, his black hair covering his left eye. I chew my lip. 

He notices my gaze, "You like my ink?" 

"Uhhh-" I stammer, mumbling something similar to a yes. He smiles, and starts pointing and talking about each, his icey blue eyes lit up with excitement at the chance to talk about them. He's nice, and he's a good guy, but when I catch myself thinking I'm catching a crush, I feel conflicted. Almost like I'm wronging someone. 

And then there's the fact that I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship with anyone. I look down at his nails, painted black. This is my kind of guy, but I'm not sure I'm ready for him. 

Silence. I realize he's waiting for me to say something. 

I blink. 

"So, um," I tap my foot, looking around. God Averen, could you bemore of an idiot?  

"You shop here?" 

Apparently you can. 

I just asked a 6'3 emo guy, covered in tattoos and wearing a biker gang shirt, if he shopes at a lingerie store. Oh yeah, I'm sure he frolicks around a daisy field in his negligees. I'm a genius. I feel my cheeks burning as attractive laughter fills the store, and I want to collapse into a puddle on the ground. 

I mumble a quick goodbye and ignore his attempts to stop me, but I felt something lightly hit my leg. I disregard it and shuffle out of the store like the mortified penguin I am. I start down the street, questioning how I'll ever look this guy in the eyes again, or Kori, his best friend. What if he tells Kori? I'll never live this down. 

In the midst of my wallowing, a stranger taps my shoulder. Her voice is warm and smooth. "Miss, you have something stuck to you."

I look down, and sure enough, a pale yellow sticky note is stuck to the leg of my jeans, something scrabbled on it in errored cursive. I thank her and bend down, unsticking the note and bringing it up to my face. 

His number. 

The ten digits stare me back, and my stomach in conflicted, butterflies in a battle with a giant ostrage. I carefully fold it and put it in the pocket of my fur coat. Deep down, I know nothing will ever come of this. 

But God, does it feel good. 

I start comparing the icey blue of Liam's eyes to the warm honey brown of Kori's, the difference not stopping at the color. I can't see past Liam's eyes, they just stop at the blue, like a wall of ice. Kori's go past, like I can swim through the brown, feel the warmth. 

Entering a smaller store, I'm met with the smell of sage, crystals sorted on little plates, shades of purple everywhere, suns and moons hanging from the ceiling, a middle-aged woman with warm brown eyes behind the counter, waving around the sage I smelled, a soothing melody coming from a sound machine beside her.

I return her smile and pick up a deep blue crystal, running my fingers over it, the rough texture somewhat comforting, as is the entire atmosphere, putting me at ease from the previous awkward moment in the boutique. 

My phone rings again, and I take it, Loretta's voice meeting mine. 

"Where are you?" Her voice Is groggy, like she just woke up from a nap. 

"Shopping," I answer, picking up a yellow crystal, this one smooth and metallic. I hear her softly singing along to music, the sound wavering, and I realize she's walking. "Where are you?"

"Uhh," She mutters, swearing quietly under her breath. "On the run from some guys girlfriend." 

"Loretta!" I yell, and then quickly lower my voice, realizing I disturbed the peaceful atmosphere of the crystal shop. I pick up a sage green crystal, round and with lines going down it like a finger print. This is the one I want. 

I can hear her speed up, "He approached me, okay? I got told I look like a small green creature that is made to resemble a bundle of phlegm. I had to make sure I could still get my kicks." 

I roll my eyes, coming to the counter and putting the crystal down on the counter, the comforting woman checking me out and giving me a small paper bag with a graphic design of a woman and a cat, the name of the shop, 'Sheila's Crystal' on it. 

I start down the street again, scolding Loretta over the phone. Lots of people pass, businessman in tuxedos, children, a stray cat. The sun goes behind the clowds, and not long after, it starts to rain, then pour. I'm umbrella-less, so this was not to my advantage. 

Like any normal person, I made a run for it, trying to remember where I parked my bug. I hang up with the idiot and speed down the street, dodging fellow caught-in-the-rainers. I purposefully turn my head away when I reach the boutique, reliving the memory which has now become nightmare fuel, and I'm sure it will haunt me for years to come. 

I finally see the light teal of my baby and practically super man jump into the drivers seat, catching a glimpse of myself in the rear-view mirror. I almost scream at how close to a drowned rodent I appear. I look like a cat caught in a sewer drain. My fault for not wearing waterproof eye make-up or setting spray. 

I drive home, Frank Sinatra blasting on the radio, intersliced with ads, ranging from a tractor store to a razor. I pull up back into the university parking lot. The rain has only grew heavier, and we're reaching storm territory. Of course I was an idiot and didn't check the weather forecast all week, if I had, I would have seen the extreme storm warning. 

I'm many yards from the dormitory entrance, and I have to make a choice. Sit in my car until it calms, or run like the wind. I finally check the weather forecast on my phone, albeit a little late, smiling at the gerold lockscreen greeting me. I see that it infact will not be calming, and this is gonna be a long one. It also says to expect a power outage. Fabulous. 

So there I was, hopelessly running through a parking lot, holding a bag containing a dress, which will now eternally remind me of the time I messed up my chance with an emo guy, and the number of said guy in my pocket. 

And, as if God was sitting up there laughing with a bucket of popcorn, I fall. My still healing cut on my knee re-opens, and the other gains a scrape too, and with my luck, I also roll my opposing ankle. The rain pours down on me, adding weight to my already soaked clothes, my tights having torn. I try to get back up, but out of shock from the unexpected pain, I stumble back down, this time getting the wind knocked out of me. 

I make It to the entrance, suddenly feeling a bit faint. I stumble in, looking like a weird species of duck, and fall directly into someone, the scent of musky pine filling my nostrils. "Que s'est-il passe'?" The familiar French greets me. 

"Huh?" I mumble, looking up at Kori. He hasn't shaved in a few days, so he's gained a light layer of stubble. 

"Are you drunk?" He scoffs, holding me up. 

"Nah, just unlucky." I mutter, eye stinging from eye make-up that has made it into them. I wipe them, and the blur subsides, Kori's eyes becoming clear. 

I steady myself, still a bit off-center. I check to make sure I still have everything I bought, and I do, including Liam's number. I stumble two steps, and immediately start to teeter again. Kori rolls his eyes, "On ya va," he mumbles and steadys me. 

He presses his floor instead of mine, and before I can open my mouth to question it, he shuts me up with a glare. The doors open, and he lifts me up, slinging me over his shoulder, as easy as a toddler. "Hey-what the-" 

I try to put up a fight, but he doesn't react. "You're basically kidnapping me. I'm gonna sue you, I-" 

"Sure you're not drunk?" He pushes open the door to his dorm, setting me down on a chair. How funny, the first time he allows me to sit on his furniture and it's when I'm gushing blood all over it. He gathers some supplies, and knees down Infront me, I glance down at him, and my cheeks warm. 

"This might sting," He gently cleans my wounds with a disinfectant, then bandages my re-opened gash. I wince, whimpering softly, gripping the chair hard. He smacks my hands with the bandages, "Stop that you idiote, you're gonna rip it."

I roll my eyes, "My apologies, I didn't realize this raggedy old chair was made out of pure diamonds and gold." 

He rolls his eyes as well, continuing to fix me up. I reach into my pocket, pulling out the now badgered sticky note. The digits are still readable, the only obstacle being the bag handwriting. Under the numbers, it reads 'Don't be a stranger', and he's drawn a heart, and it's identical to the one that was on Kori's hand the other day. 

I smile softly, and he raises an eyebrow. "What's that." 

"None of your buiness," I put it back in my pocket, but it takes It back out, reading it. 

His eyes furrow in something of annoyance, and he adjusts his sweater vest, something I've noticed he only does when frazzled. He scoffs, "I should've known you'd go for one of your own." 

"Relax," I hiss. "It's just a number. I want to be friends with him, that's all. Totally platonic. And what's it to you, anyway?" 

He's caught off guard. He stands up, and I do the same. He sighs, putting his hand on the wall over my head again, "Averen?" His voice his husky and attractive. It draws me in. 

"Yes?" I answer In an equally sultry voice, my brain flashing images of us kissing. 

Silence. The suspense is eating me from the inside out. 

"Get out of my dorm." 

Oh. 

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As I'm laying all cozied up In bed, recovering from my hell of a day, Loretta comes zooming in, the opitome of a whoops expression of her face. She slams the door shut and jumps onto the bed next to me. 

"How'd It go?" 

"My life flashed before my eyes. The woman ripped off her wig in anger. What happened to you? Did you get hit by a bus?" 

"Long story."

We laugh for a bit, and then I run through the events of my day, with her sitting crossed cross like she's in a library story hour. Eventually Loretta just hands me a chocolate bar as compensation for the shipwreck of a day I sadly had. 

I gladly except it and bite it. We put on a Gordan Ramsey show and snack as Loretta goes into detail about the insanity of her day. 

Loretta's ipad rings with a facetime, and we accept, only to see Jesse on a subway, whats-his-face next to him. His arm is around Jesse, and the absolute perfection of their relationship slightly pisses me and Loretta off, even though we could not be more happy for Jess. 

"Where the hell are you going?" Loretta says through a mouth full of chocolate almond. 

"We're going to the other side of the city to see Christophers parents." He's smiling ear to ear, and a head pops into frame, Joshua's. He's leaning on Jesse's shoulder, and they all look so cute together. 

I look down at my own phone, responding to an email from my Court Systems professor about my absence today. Then, Dad sends me a new picture of gerold, who has been officially adopted. He is curled up in a ball on Dad's chest, grumpy expression still evident, Dad giving a thumbs up. 

I can not wait to meet Gerold. I need a cute, extremely old companion to vent to. 

I open up my contacts, and slowly enter Liam's number. 

I don't text him anything, too mortified still from asking him if he wears a blue babydoll style or a nice Teddie. 

I groan and lay my head back. 

I look over at Loretta. She has hung up with Jess and now is holding up a photo of the mucinex mascot next to her head. "I don't look like him at all, right? I don't look even remotely similar."

She's entered the stage of denial. 

And thinking about Kori kneeled before me, sterilizing my wounds..

So have I.